The Mushroom Man

Greetings, I'm slightly inexperienced with mushrooms, but am enjoying each of my experiences thoroughly. I thought I would talk to you a bit about an experience I had during my time at Bonnaroo 2006. For those that don't know, this is a huge music festival that takes place in Manchester Tennessee annually. The setting is scorching hot temperatures, super high humidity, and thousands of people wandering around at all times.

I managed to get ahold of 1/4 of an ounce of some P. Mexicana on Saturday night(the 17th of June, I believe) and ate half(1/8 oz.). Within 10 to 15 minutes I was experiencing a quite powerful bodily high, the normal rubbery feeling I notice when the mushrooms begin to take hold, only magnified to an UNHOLY(or holy? :) level. Within 20 to 25 minutes I went and laid in my tent because I was almost completely inebriated. This is when it got interesting. I began having the most intense visuals I've ever experienced in my life, the world had taken on a distinctly pleasant tone and there where thick strands of light forming a three dimensional grid that completely encompassed my field of vision(and everything in it). Faces oscillated and I began to experience very interesting(and hilarious) auditory hallucinations.

While laying in my tent, I began rolling around slightly, rocking back and forth and laughing uncontrollably. A man came to me, he only had a head, which was formed from one of the beautiful(and fully matured) P. Mexicana. He began to speak to me, in song, and show me some very interesting designs. They were perfectly symmetrical, circular designs. They rotated slowly, letting me see what they were made of and the song would change, teaching me of what I was seeing. Each time I listened and thought about what the "man" was trying to tell me, then put it in my own words in my thoughts, I would experience an overwhelming bodily sensation, which was concentrated on my head. The only way I can think to describe it would be a very pleasant version of having your ears pop from pressure change.(I know that doesn't feel good, but it's similar to what I experienced in some unexplainable way) I remember thinking, "I get it now, when I understand what he wants me to understand, he gives me "the good feeling."" I then experienced an extremely powerful and overwhelming *POP*. It was so strong I couldn't help but coil up into the fetal position and close my eyes. When I opened them, he was gone.

For some time after this I just laid there and listened to the music I was hearing, formed by the many voices and noises of the forest and of the thousands of people partying that night. It all came together in the strangest way, voices mixing together to form melody, coming across the sky in waves.

Then things took a turn for the worst. Everyone I was with(I was the only one tripping) decided to go to bed, because it was so late. The voices started to play with me and I remember seeing a really strange design that was not akin at all to the ones my wonderful friend had showed me earlier. Pipes here and there, forming a large contraption that seemed to be alive. With a large eye on top, and smoke coming out(making a fun cartoony toot every so often) of one end, it began swallowing live humans and changing them into mutants. This quickly dispersed, I tried to control myself as it was much more unsavory than I am letting on.

Paranoia took hold and I began to hear people talking about a horrifying event. It was as if they were narrating a story of a man who had murdered everyone he had come to the festival with.(Two of the seven of us were my younger sisters) I listened, eyes widening as they talked about what had happened. I began to think, "Was that me? What did I do last night?" When in reality...it was still that night. I tried to wake up the two people who were asleep next to me, but they were crashed hard and wouldn't wake up. This is when I began to panic. I thought they were bleeding to death and that I had slit everyone's throats, then my own. I got out of my tent in my socks and began to run for help. Of course, I was catching a bunch of odd looks, and rightfully so. I kept asking people..."What's wrong with me? Why are you looking at me like that?". They'd just look at me with wide eyes and back away.

I went asking for medical help(I should have said mental :) because everyone at my campsite was dying, and was directed to a small aide station. I began to walk. On my journey, many interesting and stimulating characters came and spoke to me. Each of them taking a few minutes of their time to put their arm around me and listen to my story. Time passed and it seemed like eons. The sun came up, then a "skip" in time and it was dark again. It seemed like three days had passed, when it only took me 30 minutes or less to walk down that muddy road.(Yes, in my socks) I thought about what had happened, and was horrified. Eventually, I accepted my fate and knew I was going to die. I no longer feared it and waited patiently. Walking up to the aide station I said, "Hello. I just murdered everyone at my campsite and have no idea of what to do next." Wide eyes and silence. I was pointed to the next aide station where there was a radio. A guy on a golfcart came driving up sometime later(After an interesting conversation with one of the Bonnaroo staff about my bleeding to death). I hopped on and off we went to the main aide station. The one with helicopters and all that fun stuff. So we get there, I'm still tripping hard and at this point my thoughts are so jumbled and circular that I can't communicate anything except my name and where I was from. They knew I was tripping and gave me a cot to lay on, some water and a blanket. Every 15 minutes or so someone would come over and try to talk me down, but I thought they were conspiring against me.

It felt like being in an evil circus, and I felt like everyone had a script they were reading just to show me what a complete idiot I was being. People would come in on stretchers, having epileptic seizures, two mentally handicapped males were strapped down on cots across the way, making noises and yelling my name. I laid there like this until dawn. There was a slow come-down, but not like normal. One minute I was still worried about the people I had slain, then "snap" and everything was mundane and normal again. I sat up, looked at my hands and laughed. A man came over, got some information, gave me another bottle of water. I thanked them all for their help and set out on my way. That was a long damn walk through gravel in my socks all the way back to my campsite.

Well, that was my experience. I didn't know they were P. Mexicana's when I bought them, but that's what I suspected(since the supplier said they were shipped from Mexico). I have never had prior experience with these, so I looked them up online. I also saved the other 1/8 oz. and identified them as best I could. The caps looked like sombreros, but most were young and potent, bruising the brightest and most beautiful shade of blue. Apparently I had eaten close to what Mazatec? shamans ate during divination rituals. God, that was intense.